Month 6
by sariahbradshaw
Summary: "Killian, I don't care if you install a revolving wall of sex toys in our bedroom as long as I get to renovate the bathroom."


Month 6:

Killian lets out a tired sigh as he stands before the scene of the crime. Normally, coming home to find one's wife in the tub would be a sight for delight. However, coming home to find one's wife has passed-out in the tub, seemingly in-between bathing rituals, is slightly concerning.

Especially since it's the third time this month.

He sighs again, shrugging his jacket off and folding it neatly on the lavatory cover and making a plan of action. She's truly a thing of beauty, Swan. Water slides smoothly off miles of fair skin, the heat of it causing the pink in her cheeks and the flush of her breasts, heavy as they lay. Her lips remain slightly pursed, showing just a flash of white. The golden pool of her hair is tied in a half-forgotten tangle atop her head, leaving the clean line of her throat for his purview. The constellation of freckles behind her ear he loves to bite when she clenches around him-

Enough of that, Killian told himself sternly as his cock twitched. Nodding to himself, he unzipped his jeans and rolled up his socks, folding everything nearly on top of his jacket until he was bare but for the charms around his neck and the silver band on his finger. He approached the frankly ostentatiously large tub, leaning his head to kiss Emma's hair.

("Kitchen: yours. Pick any other room you want. The bathroom is _mine_."

"Even the bedroom, love?"

"Killian, I don't care if you install a revolving wall of sex toys in our bedroom as long as I get to renovate the bathroom."

"Revolv...Emma, _Swan_ come back here. What do you speak of?"

"..Seriously, we are going to have a hot water heater big enough for a fucking swimming pool.")

She didn't stir.

Poor lass, all tuckered out.

He entered the tub, not bothering to cover the splash of his steps as Emma's eyelashes flickered. She gave a discontented groan as he nudged her up and slid behind her, green eyes opening lazily to shoot him an irritated look.

"Hook."

"Hello love," He grinned. Couldn't help but grin. Only a foolish man would look past the opportunity presented by a naked Emma Swan.

("-You know it's technically Jones now. I did take your name, after all."

"And while that day is one of my favourite memories, I fear you will always be Swan to me."

"Sentimental asshole."

"Your husband."

"Clearly, I made a mistake."

"Your True Love."

"Ugh, do you have to pop the 't' whenever you say it?"

"Swan's devilishly handsome paramour."

Snort. "Okay, I'll tell Granny that one. See how long you survive when Leroy is calling you a 'paramour'."

" _Emma!_ ")

Emma huffed at him as he pulled an errant lock of hair out of her face. "Hello love."

"You woke me up. I was having a nice nap."

"In the tub again, I see." He let her snort, readjusting her weight so she rested on his chest, his legs framing hers.

The contrast always stuck him, her pale, lean limbs mapped with gentle freckles against his dark-furred, swarthy legs. It was like moonlight between his thighs.

"Killian, we've been over this. I've slain dragons. I'm not going to drown in the tub. Pretty sure not being able to breathe would wake my ass up."

He snorted against her hair but wasn't convinced. While his wife usually woke at the slightest provocation, lately sleep had been claiming her for longer hours and with a heavier grasp. Just last week, she had fallen asleep at her desk and slept through a) A chimera landing and once again destroying the clock tower. b) said creature roaring up a storm and c) Grumpy alerting anyone within a twenty-mile radius that they were once again under attack, somehow perhaps louder himself than the beast. And while he was all for her rest, coming home to find her unconscious in the water was starting to unnerve him.

He turned his head, resting his cheek against her hair and kissed the side of her face lightly again. His hand came up to stroke her collar lightly, fingers playing in the divot of her bones. "Perhaps but that would be a much less pleasant wake up than my dashing self, hmm?"

He could feel her eyes roll up to to her skull. "Dork. Anyways, I didn't mean to fall asleep in here but shaving was a bitch, so I just had to rest before I started on the other leg.

Killian laughed, resting his chin on her shoulder so he could look over her swollen belly to see that she had indeed, removed hair up to her knee on her left leg while the right was still dusted with baby-fine gold strands.

She swatted back at him. "Look buddy you try reaching your thighs when you've got a watermelon strapped to your waist. It's a miracle I got this far. Soon you're simply just going to get Emma the crazy bush-lady. See how you like it then."

His eyes crinkled fondly a he rubbed his nose into her skin, moving his hand to rub soft circles into the stretched skin of her abdomen. "While your natural state is hardly going on the stupendously short list of times I do not find you desirable, I do not to be the cause of any discomfort, especially with something I gladfully claim to have helped cause."

Emma chuckled back up at him and he felt a tiny flutter under his hand, causing him to press down gently. It always moved him beyond words, the feel of his _child_ kicking up from inside the womb of his _wife_. He could live for another three hundred years and spend each day writing poems and nothing, nothing would come close to the swell that took him whenever he felt her kick.

Emma's groan told him that she did not agree. She laid her head heavily back on him, shutting one eye and giving him an annoyed glance. "Great, now you woke her up too. I was hoping to have a break from my kidneys being used as hockey pucks"

He kissed her then, had to kiss her. Always had to whenever he thought of the great and terrible honour she had given him when she agreed to bear his child. The burden he could not share in: the strain of her delicate hips, the angry pucker of her feet, the inevitable pain that Emma alone would pay to bring their babe into the world.

("Did you just apologize to me because I had a craving?"

"Er-yes?"

"The craving for McDonalds, which you got, at 3a.m., even though it's an hour away?"

"I...Swan have I done something wrong again?"

"Which you got, after I nailed you with that fork this afternoon so hard it bled for an hour?"

"'T'was merely a scratch and certainly justifiable.

"Why the fuck did you apologize?"

"Emma, it has merely occurred to me that I had a direct result in your current discomforts."

She stared at him, hands on her slightly rounder hips, flush with the fight. Killian had an insane urge to flee. At this point, he wasn't sure he could breath without causing offense. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Jesus Christ Killian, we agreed to get pregnant. Had a whole talk about it. Several, in fact. Waited for months to be sure. Had kinky, fantastic money sex to get here. I totally get that you'd try to impregnate yourself if there was a way just so I didn't have to get fat and grumpy, but there's not. So stop feeling guilty over it and for fucks sake, don't apologize for knocking me up."

"Aye Swan."

"Oh, and Killian-"

"Yes dear?"

"Duck, next time. It's ridiculous that you let me hit you with that fork.")

It was a long, tender brush of lips until Emma pulled away, humming as she settled back down again. Looking around, Killian spotted the abandoned shaving cream and razor, pulling them closer and maneuvering the can with his elbow so the white foam filled his hand.

She raised her eyes at him. "You're serious?"

His wife. His Emma. "As a lark, my love. It seems that this is a problem easily rectified."

She chuckled, shaking her head lightly. "Whatever loser, go ahead and get to town then.

So he did.

He tapped lightly on her right knee, fingers pulling it up to gently bend her leg. He kept his wrist bracing her back and ran his hand down the lean limb, rubbing the foaming mixture into firm muscle and swirling around each little mark, known and loved.

The freckles under her knee. The little scar right above her ankle. A pinky-sized birthmark in the shape of a trident on her shin.

Satisfied, Killian dunked his hand in the slightly tepid water, rising before reaching for her razor and following the metal carefully down the slope of her leg, biting into the soft hairs on his way.

"I can't believe you're shaving me." Her voice was thick again with drowsiness, her weight settled a little more firmly against him. He'd be carrying her to bed then, after this little exercise.

"It's hardly a trifle, love." He murmured, keeping his voice low as he repeated the smooth motion against her leg. Lift. Trace razor down. Rinse in water. Repeat. The motion was as soothing as her rapidly deepening breaths against his neck.

"Still...it's...you're wonderful. Stupid. Stupidly wonderfully? Wonderfully stupid?"

He laughed lightly at her slur as he moved her leg, brushing up her thigh and and trimming neatly.

"As you say love, I am your wonderfully stupid husband."

Task complete, he released her leg, smoothing the limb down into the water and using his hand to help her rinse, gliding in smooth motions.

He felt the curve of her smile just before sleep took her. "Yeah, that you are. _My husband_."

Killian left the bathstuffs for a later clean up, pulling the plug and reaching forward to snatch a towel and tuck into Emma as well as he could with her refusing to leave her perch.


End file.
